If You Call My Name, I'll Come Running
by idontuseanymorebutt
Summary: '"Shoosh don't cry… I'm here. I'm not going to leave. Not ever." More useless words. And you wonder if you really even mean it anymore. But the crying boy coiled up in your arms convinces you otherwise. For the moment. For the night.' Johnkat.


**((A/n-Hey. I've been feeling a little down lately so I decided to write a sadstuck... Sorry about the lack of using the names of the characters, I found it easier to write this way. Even so, I hope you enjoy.~))**

You'll never feel more sick of hearing your name. Expecially from him. "John please…"

He sounds so sad, so depressed. For a second you can almost convince yourself that he is actually trying. He won't hurt you again. He won't he promises. Like all the times before he promised. All the times he lied... "I'm sorry. John please don't go." And you put down your suitcase for the 3rd time this month to hold him close. "I'm not going anywhere" you lie. And you know it's a lie. Tonight you'll sneak out and crash on Jade's couch.

You'll have make up sex, you'll whisper small broken promises into his ears and calm him down, and then you'll leave for the night. You always do. He won't notice until morning but he'll be way to busy with work to say anything. You'll cry, and Jade will too. She'll ask why you wont leave and you'll lie and say you don't know. But you do. You know damn well.

Karkat needs you more than anything.

He needs you more than anyone will ever realize.

"Shoosh don't cry… I'm here. I'm not going to leave. Not ever." More useless words. And you wonder if you really even mean it anymore. But the crying boy coiled up in your arms convinces you otherwise. For the moment. For the bad nights. You'll unpack you suitcase and he'll watch. And you'll smile at him through tears and fold away your clothes, shoving them back into the dresser you share. Then you'll come back to bed and he'll just lay there. His arms tight around your torso and yours wrapped up around his neck. Each time gives you a bigger hope. He's not gonna hit you anymore.

But he always does. He always will.

Scared fingers glide across the bruises on your hips and shoulders for the millionth time. And each second a small 'I'm sorry' will float into your ear. You beat the thought with an 'don't be' and that's how you handle it. You fumble with the hair on his neck and give him a look and he'll kiss you over and over.

"I promise, John. I promise you."

You know there lies. You know. But something in your heart forces you to believe. And that's exactly what you do. You love him and he loves you, shouldn't you believe him?

Slowly he drifts off to sleep, sniffling and hiccupping softly into your shirt and you feel bad. You are the worst boyfriend…the worst. Why would you go to leave? You picked a time where you knew he would be home. You knew he would walk in on you packing. You always do.

And you always hope that it will make him stop hurting you.

But no, it doesn't. It makes him hurt himself. He cuts his wrists and you both fumble for the blade each time, even successfully cutting your fingers up too once or twice. But that makes him feel worse. He'll cut until he's bloody and sometimes until he can't stand. He'll make you watch him destroy himself and you'll cry.

Karkat needs you. And you were going to just leave. But, did you ever even have a plan to at all?

You still wanted him to come home and see you leave.

Those where the upsetting nights. He would beg and plead you not to go. Offer you the world if you would just please stay with him. Not once did you intend on leaving.

But there are good nights too. He'll come home from work and dinner will be ready on the table for him, like every night. You'll kiss him at the front door and he'll share a rare smile and an 'I love you' and sit down to eat. You eat with him, smiling and laughing as he talks about his day, his adventures, his stupid co-workers. Maybe he even brings you home a soda he steals from the machines at his job like he does every other day. You'll cry, like you always do. Because with him a soda is the most endearing gift on a day like this. You even collect the cans.

If your lucky, then he'll slide onto the couch with you afterwards. He'll deal through your favorite movie for the millionth time and keep his arms tight around you. You'll share a giggle and lay your head on his chest. That was the only time he would hold you like that, and you would always make it last.

Sometimes you would pretend to fall asleep on him, nuzzle him up close and calm your breathing just to hear the soft little words he whispers to you while you sleep.

_I love you, John. I know I'm not the best but I'm trying to be. One day you'll be proud of me I promise._

He would shut off the TV and sleep with you on the couch on nights like that. And you'd hang on to those soft spoken promises as if they where the last bit of hope you had left. Even if they actually where.

You would wake up and he wouldn't be there anymore. You'd cling to the warmth and you'd cry. He would never stay home with you after a night like that. Then you'll do what you do every day and deal with it, bury it inside you and just hold on to those promises and cry.

Once or twice he would catch you crying in the bathroom, because of him. And there would only be two outcomes, depending on his day at work. He would pick you up and hold you. Whisper how he will do better. He CAN do better. How he can't TRY anymore, he has to do it now.

Or he would smack you and tell you to shut your mouth. No use in crying like a little bitch. No one pities the weak but the weak itself. And if you wouldn't stop. He would give you a reason to cry and hit you until you told him you would stop and "meant it".

How embarrassing. How you can call this man the love of your life when he hurts you like this.

But you will never leave. And he will never change.

And somehow, you're okay with that.

**((A/n-Thanks a lot for reading, leave me a review? I need some input, I havent writen in a while ^_^''))**

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